The life and times of Micheal R Gabe
by Protagonist7
Summary: More or less a novelization of Fallout: New Vegas. The story of a Courier who would come to change the fate of the entire Mojave Wasteland, and the trials and tribulations he would face.
1. Chapter 1

The last thing I remember...

Prologue:

War. War never changes.

When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults.  
When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies,  
establish new villages, form new tribes. As decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the flag of the New California Republic, dedicated to old-world values of democracy and the rule of law. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth,  
in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert. They returned with tales of a city untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the Colorado River.

The NCR mobilized its army and set it east to occupy the Hoover Dam, and restore it to working condition.  
But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves,  
forged in the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion.

Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam - just barely - against the Legion's onslaught.  
The Legion did not retreat. Across the river, they gathered strength. Campfires burned, training drums beat.

Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has stayed open for business under the control of its mysterious overseer,  
Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated Tribals and police robots.

Michael R. Gabe is a courier, hired by the Mojave Express, to deliver a package to the New Vegas Strip.  
What seemed like a simple delivery job had taken a turn for the worse.

I was tied up, my mouth gagged. I was lying on the ground, feeling the dusty soil against my cheek.  
My head hurt. I managed to get into an upright position. There were 5 people around me. Their leader was a man in fancy checkered suit.  
A black man looked at him and said "You got what you were looking for, now pay up!".  
The checkered suit guy said "You're crying in the rain, pally."  
Another man with a mohawk looked at me and said "Guess who's waking up over here?"  
The man in the suit said "Time to cash out."  
The black guy said "Will you hurry up?"  
The suit guy said "Maybe Kahns kill people without looking them in the eye, but I ain't a fink, dig?"  
The suit guy pulled out a platinum poker chip and held it in my face. It said 'Lucky 38' on it.  
"You've made your last delivery, kid." He put the chip back in his pocket. "I'm sorry you got twisted up in this game." He pulled out a golden pistol. "From where you're standing, it probably seems like an 18 carat run of bad luck" He put the pistol against my forhead. "But the truth is, the game was rigged from the start."  
He pulled the trigger. 


	2. Chapter 2

Back in the Saddle again

I woke up in a relatively soft bed. I opened my eyes, and my vision was all blury for a second. A voice said "You're awake, how 'bout that?"  
I sat upright, and suddenly felt lightheaded. The man said "Woah! Easy there!".  
I looked at him. He was a bald old man, who wore reading glasses and a farmer's outfit.  
"You've been out cold a couple of days now. Name's Doc Mitchell. Can you tell me your name?"  
I had difficulty remembering it, but eventually, I blurted out "Michael!"  
Doc said "Hm. Can't say it's what I'd have picked for ya, but if that's your name,  
that's your name."  
We proceded to go through some exams. Stuff to see if my muscles had atrophied,  
to see how much brain damage the bullet had done to my brain, to test hand-eye coordination.  
That sort of thing.  
Eventually, the Doc had decided to let me go with a clean bill of health.  
"Now, before I turn you loose, I think you ought to have this." He handed me a watch-like device with a giant screen on it. He said "They call it a Pip-boy. Ain't much use to me Now. And here's some things you had on you when you came in." Doc handed me a delivery order for a package from "the Mojave express". So, I must have indeed been a courier.  
There were also some bottle caps, which if I recall are currency these days.  
"You might want to see Sunny Smiles for advice on survivng out here, and Victor, the metal feller who dug you out of your grave."  
...

And so I left the Doc's place. The place looked like a town from a western. It was far removed from most of the wasteland, and yet, it didn't seem out of place in the Mojave.  
My first priority was to arm myself. I didn't want to get jumped again. So, I went to a store nearby. A man stood at the end of a counter.  
He looked at me and said "Hey! You're that one that Doc Mitchell patched up! Way I heard, I didn't think you were coming out of that office!"  
I said "Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated."  
Chet said "Must of been if you're in my shop now."  
I grabbed a pouch filled with caps and set it on the table. I said "So, got anything I can use to defend myself?"  
Chet said "Well, I don't pack a whole lot of weapons, but I think I can get you started on defending yourself. For a fee, of course."  
In the end, I had ended up purchasing leather armor and a motorcycle helmet. They wouldn't stop bullets, but they'd do against clubs and knives. I bought some brass knuckles for hand-to-hand combat. I purchased a pool cue, a straight razor, and a rolling pin for close quarters. I decided some energy weapons might be needed. I purchased a recharger rifle and pistol. They didn't use up ammo, so out in the dessert they'd be pretty useful. But, I always preffered conventional guns, so I got a nail gun and a legendary official Red Ryder 200-shot carbine action range model air rifle. By the end, I had spent every cap on me.

I got to the prospector saloon, and standing before me was a red haired woman wearing a leather jacket. A dog snarled at me.  
The woman said "Cheyenne! Stay! Don't worry, she won't bite unless I tell her to."  
I said to her "Hello, my name's Michael. And you are?"  
She said "Sunny Smiles. Aren't you the one Doc Mitchell found?"  
Unusual name, but I went on "Doc Mitchell said you could teach me a thing or two about surving in the dessert.  
She said "Yeah, I guess you need all the help you can get after what they done to you. Here, meet me at the behind the saloon."  
I obeyed. She had set up a firing range of sorts, with Sasperilla bottles on a table. She said "Here, try to hit a couple of them"  
I looked down the sights of my BB gun. I fired a shot at a bottle, and the BB pinged against the glass towards the base of the bottle.  
"That's the right idea, look down the sight. Try croutching, it'll help your aim"  
said Sunny.  
I took her advice, and fired another shot while croutching. It hit, as well.  
Sunny said "Well, that's a start. But I reckon you didn't come to me to learn to fight sasperilla bottles. Tell you what, I need to clear out some Geckos at the water source. Darn critters are attracted to it. Seems like Doc Mitchell patches up gecko bites more than anything else."  
I said "Sounds like fun, I said"  
Sunny chuckled "You have no idea." 


	3. Chapter 3

Gecko hunting

Me and Sunny met up behind a ridge. Sunny looked at me and said "you see that?  
We have some geckos to clear out!" She was carrying a Remington, apparently her weapon of choice.  
I looked out over the horizon. 'Gecko' wasn't the right term. More like a bipedal bearded dragon than anything.  
"Go give 'em hell" said SUnny, urging me on.  
I pulled out my nail gun, and snuck up closer to the creature. I looked down the sights, and tried to hit it. I missed, and the gecko heard the sound. It turned and charged towards me. I fired some nails into its leg, but it didn't seem to deter it. It jumped on me, knocking the gun out of my hand. It tried to claw at me, but I managed to go for my straight razor, and I slit its throat. It went limp, so I threw it aside.  
Another gecko charged at me. I went for roundhoused-kick across its neck. Said neck snapped, killing it.  
I hopped onto an abandoned vehicle, dual weilding a recharger pistol with the nail gun from before. I fired both at a small crowd of Geckos headed my way.  
What throws many people off about Energy weapons, like my recharger pistol, is how mechanically different they are from standard guns. You see, a firearm works by firing a projectile, while energy weapons simply shine a lethal flashlight. A red beam of light appeared from the gun for a second, and then it dissapeared. The gecko that was hit by it flinched for a second, and then ran at me some more. Shooting him with my nail gun had more lethal effects on it.  
Eventually, the last of the Geckos had died. During the whole fight, Sunny herself was off fighting a different group of Geckos. She turned to me and said "Great job. Even got a little exciting there at the end.

Sunny said "Just one last thing I think I should teach you." She led me to a campfire.  
"Now, I want to teach you how to make something folks on the trail call 'healing powder'.  
All you need is broc flower and some Xander root"  
I looked at my Pip-Boy. It identified that the nearest sources were by a nearby schoolhouse and the graveyard. I got to the schoolhouse. My Pip-boy gave me a warning beep. I turned around. There was a praying mantis about a foot long. I grabbed my pool cue, and I smacked it to the ground.  
The mantis wasn't killed, but just stunned. Not wanting misery upon any creature, I shot it with my recharger pistol, killing it.  
I located the Xander root. It resembled a turnip. I plucked it out, and made my way off to the graveyard. I looked around. The place seemed familiar, until it finally hit me: this is where I'd been shot!  
A cigarrete butt caught my eye. It might have been dropped by the man who shot me. I picked it up, and put in my backpack. Nearby was a knife someone had left behind. I picked it up. It was a steak knife, I think. I never was an expert in cooking tools.  
It was then that I noticed an odd creature flying about. Namely, it was a football sized-fly. My Pip-Boy identified it as a 'Bloatfly'. The creature saw me, and suddenly, a stinger flew out of it at me!  
The projectile hit me right in the shoulder. It didn't penetrate my armor, though. I grabbed my rolling pin,  
and I hid behind a tombstone. The creature flew closer to me, trying to find me again. By the time it was in a position to shoot at me, I had alread moved. I came out of cover, and I smacked it from behind with my rolling pin. The creature fell to the ground, and I began stomping on it to make sure it was dead.  
Finally, I had both items. I walked back to the campfire. Sunny inspected the two. "Yeah, these are fine. Just fine". She instructed me on how to dry them up, grind them, and then mix the two together.  
"See, all you need is the right stuff and the right know-how." said Sunny. "Hey, maybe you should go see Trudy,  
she's kind of like a town Mom. She runs the prospecter saloon." 


End file.
